i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
no like which do people call me
abrar?
feel you
And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.
have you read
its good
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
its good
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
its good short few pages
yeah
was it worth it
I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.
...
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
not so on: yvf(wthw)
your feed looks like my tumblr
and the fake qualifier
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext
the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.